Switched Positions and Old Memories
by tridecawho
Summary: Rex and Melissa talk in the car after erasing Cassie's memories in book three, waiting for Midnight to end. Midnighters owned by Scott Westerfeld.


"Everything" She drew him closer, silencing his lips with hers.

The tracks were eerie in the warped light of the blue moon on their walk back to the car. They walked side by side, Rex closest to the forest. Melissa would constantly catch him looking dreamily toward the trees. He'd notice her and stop, but only to look back a few steps later.

Back in the car, Melissa looked at her watch, still working in the midnight hour.

"So, what do we do for… forty-four minutes?"

"_God _Cowgirl, if you _have _to ask." He retorted in a mimicking tone.

She scowled. "First off, it was _geez, _not _God._"

"Aw, c'mon Cowgirl. You know I was just kidding," he reasoned, taking her gloved hand in his.

The old seats creaked awkwardly as they leaned into each other. After Rex held her face and pressed his lips against hers, Melissa began to show him what had happened inside of Cassie's mind. The way everything was mapped out and displayed in front of her, and her ability to click through Cassie's thoughts and memories like a web page.

Melissa couldn't help thinking that touching was so _easy _now. Before, she would barely be able to concentrate on merely touching fingers. But now she was able to kiss Rex, and feel everything they were feeling, all while explaining how she explored Cassie's mind.

She also couldn't believe she'd went from barely touching anyone for sixteen years, to this. It was the third time she'd kissed Rex in less than a half hour.

Rex pulled her closer to him across the dashboard, hands through her hair and pulling on her back. As much as he tried to suppress them, and just concentrate on normal, sixteen year old feelings, darkling thoughts of prey and humanity still seeped through.

Melissa pulled away, pushing him gently with the palm of her hand.

"Sorry." He said, looking down at his lap.

She sighed, and looked out the window, fiddling uncomfortably with her fingers in the awkward silence.

"I just… you know I can't control it, cowgirl."

"I know. I'm sorry." She said, looking at him finally, and smirked. "It's just sort of a distraction." He chuckled.

They sat there in silence. The world around them was unnaturally still- no wind, no rustle of tree branches to divert their attention. Just the amplified sounds of each other's movements, coughs, and breaths.

Rex opened his mouth to break the silence.

"Cowgirl, there's a question I've been meaning to ask you for a long time."

His face was serious, and she could tell he was purposely clouding his mind, making it difficult to interpret his feelings or intentions. He had the tastelessness of plastic.

"What is it, Rex?" She asked, honestly confused.

"It's just that-" a suppressed smile broke through the stern line of his mouth. "Do you hear your own thoughts when you touch yourself?"

She knitted her eyebrows for a moment, and then broke out into laughter when she saw how much fun Rex was getting out of a very lame joke.

"Actually, I do."

"Do you ever find that you're not thinking anything at all?"

She let out an honest chuckle at that. "Why yes, Rex, I find, on occasion, when touching myself, that I am actually not thinking anything at all."

"Are you thinking anything right now?"

Melissa snorted, tipping her head back against the car seat. "You tell me."

"Oh, that'll be easy."

She picked up her head and looked at him, in a sudden wave of thought. "You tell me, Rex. You be the mindcaster. For once, tell me what _I'm_ thinking."

Melissa closed her eyes and tipped her head back, stretching her mind across Bixby; Dess, working on a new thirteen-sided toy; Jessica, flying with Jonathan. She wrinkled her nose at their carefree happiness.

She sensed Rex beside her, of course. Always stronger than the others, no matter how far away he was. Concentrating now on what she could possibly be thinking.

"You're mindcasting."

She smiled with her eyes closed still. "Correct, genius."

"Shut up." There was a long moment of silence, in which she continued to cast her mind around Midnight.

"You're thinking about Jessica and Jonathan!"

Her eyes snapped open, and she turned her head toward him. "How'd you know that?"

He smiled. "You wrinkled your nose some. One could say you looked disgusted," He said in a sarcastic tone.

She laughed. "That I was, Loverboy. Keep going." She breathed in, and spoke out in a sigh-like tone. "It's nice, to have someone read _my _mind for once."

"Okay, Cowgirl." She stretched her mind out, finally reaching another soul. "Madeleine!"

"Geez, Rex. How do you keep guessing?"

"Your hand twitched." He responded. "And you looked a little annoyed. But you stood up straighter, happier."

She looked at him in disbelief, raking her eyes over his face. "How do you know all this stuff? How can you interpret it?"

"How can you?" He responded as her slipped her hands through his.

_I'm proud to say I know you well enough, Melissa, to tell what you're thinking a lot of the time._

She smiled, and looked out the window, breaking her hand from his to push a lock of hair behind her ear.

He kept watching her, pulling his knees up to his chest, and she was aware of it. She cursed herself for having such access to his mind, all the time. It was funny, sometimes, but other times she just felt like an intruder. She didn't want to know when he looked at her, or what he thought of her, all the time.

She occupied her mind with just relaxing, and letting it roam; from miles away from her, from the city to the desert, from the sky above her to the forest opposite her. From mathematics to the thrill of flying; to thoughts much like her own and those beyond human understanding.

"You're thinking about the darklings." Rex mumbled, minutes later, still looking at her. She turned her head, surprised—she didn't know they were still playing that game, and was still surprised at his talent in making an inference.

"I was, actually."

He looked through the windshield. After several moments of tense silence, he said, "There's one out there. Just beyond the edge of the forest. A hundred yards or so."

Her hands shook. "I'm aware."

"It's calling me."

"I'm aware."

"It wants me to come."

"I'm aware." And then she added, "You can't go."

"It just wants to communicate with me, just for a few minutes," he said, turning toward her in his seat. She noticed the way he said, 'communicate' instead of 'talk'. It reminded her, yet again, that what they were dealing with was not remotely human.

"No. It wants to do more than just talk, Rex." She was sickly reminded bitterly of a mother trying to ward her daughter away from boys. She scowled at the thought.

"There's only one."

"Maybe I don't want you to go. What if something bad happens?" She cried, raising her voice in exasperation.

Luckily, Rex was too determined to venture into that forest, where that creature was, to make fun of her worry. "They just want to talk. And you know it."

She struggled for words to keep him in the car. "What if I'm worried for myself? I have little weapons. If you leave, how am I supposed to defend myself?"

"You're surrounded by trailers made of metal from the back, and metal train tracks from the front. And a car all around you."

"_Rex._"

"There's nothing to keep me from going."

"Me!" She yelled. "I don't want you to go. You know how you got when I went into the attic with Madeleine? It was more than jealousy. Jeez, Rex, I don't want them to mess you up!" He just stared at her.

"They wouldn't mess me up. I'm one of them." His fingers itched in anticipation, in the craving to meet a mind like his own. He couldn't give this opportunity up.

"For _me_, Rex, I'm asking you to stay here, with me, and not go in there. Please. I'm asking you."

He held her gaze for a few moments; but Melissa was stronger.

He slumped back on his seat in defeat.

"_Thank_ you," she said, sarcastic and exasperated. Unfortunately, her cockiness was exactly the wrong thing to express.

"Why do you always have to control me? Why can't I make up my own mind?" He asked.

"Rex, when do I control you?" She responded. "And didn't we _just _make a deal that I wouldn't touch anyone in case _you_ were there?"

"That's different." He responded. "That's dictating someone else's life. Not your own."

"Do you honestly think I'm going to go out and turn someone's brain to mush? That makes me feel a lot more confidant, knowing your fine opinions of me."

"You never know when something like that could happen. And plus," he added, pained, "I speak from experience."

Melissa gasped. She turned her head sharply away from Rex and into her lap. Not once had he ever blamed her; he'd acknowledged it, of course, and she'd felt his pain, but he—they—had always assumed it was for the best.

He'd never been angry at her for it before.

"Melissa—"

"I'm sorry, Rex." She said. "I've always been sorry. There's not a time when I look at your dad—or at you—and don't think about it. Don't you think I know what I did? I ruined someone's life. I was careless and I was stupid, and I ruined someone's life. And Rex, I'm not only talking about your father."

"Melissa, what are you talking about?" He reached out to touch her elbow; she pulled away. He took a breath and said, firmly, "You did not ruin my life. How could you think that?"

"Now your dad's crazy, your mom left, and you're all alone. And it's _my _fault."

"That is _not _true. At all."

"Whatever," Melissa whispered, looking out the window, away from Rex.

They stayed that way, silent, looking out separate windows into the unmoving night, until the world shuttered back to life.

The Ford had been off before the secret hour for once, while they had their little "if you have to ask" session. So the hum of the engine coming to life was the first thing they heard after the night turned black again, and Melissa wove through the flat Bixby streets toward Rex's house, him silent beside her.

She pulled up in front of his house, and couldn't help but take note of the chipped paint, the overgrown grass, the broken screen…

He did not get out of the car.

Suddenly, he grasped both of her shoulders, hard enough that she couldn't break free, and he held her in a steady gaze.

"Melissa, never think that any of this was your fault again. Ever." She began to protest, but Rex was faster. "And I'm not alone—don't ever forget that."

He brought her close to him, wrapping his arms tight around her, whether she liked it or not. But she didn't hesitate to do the same.

_How did I end up the one being comforted here? _Melissa thought, her face pressed into his bare neck.

_Because, you're the only one still carrying the guilt. I'm better off—trust me. _He answered.

She nodded into his shoulder, loving his embrace more than she wanted to admit.

But it had to end, and eventually he pulled away from her, climbing gracefully out of the car.

"Night, Rex," she whispered.


End file.
